


There Will Be Light

by fraternite



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Epistolary, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:44:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7917346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraternite/pseuds/fraternite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac finds the letter long Afterward, stuffed into the breast pocket of his coat--the one he'd thrown off while building the barricade, the one Feuilly had shoved into his arms just as he realized what was going on.  The paper is mud-stained and wrinkled from water damage, but the words are still clear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Will Be Light

**Author's Note:**

> So I know this is super short to be posting on AO3, but the Courfeuilly tag is so sparse that I want to upload everything to it that I possibly can! I'm sure you can relate. ;)

Dear Courfeyrac,

By the time you get this, ~~I~~ –well, since you’re reading this, you already know what happened.  There’s no point in me going over it again.  You’re probably really sad right now.  I know I would be, if it were me. But Enjolras is right, somebody needs to tell the story of what happened.  And you’re the best person for it.  You’re probably not going to agree with him at the time–you might not agree with him for years and years–but, well, that’s why he thought up the thing with the barrels.

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what was going to happen.  You might be angry with me, and if you are, that’s all right.  It’s not fair to you to trick you into it like this.  But we …  it doesn’t make it right, but we didn’t know what else to do.

But since you don’t what’s going to happen (again, I’m ~~sorry~~ so very sorry), I have to say goodbye to you this way.  And to tell you–

Who would have seen this coming?  I don’t mean back in April, when the movement was growing so fast and we all felt like we were flying; we’ve always known anything could happen.  But back years and years ago, when I was a little boy eating trash behind the wineshops, so lost and abandoned I barely knew the name of the city?  Who could have seen that one day I’d be writing, not just the alphabet, but a whole letter!

And it’s because of you that I learned at all.  I know you think it was all Combeferre, and yes, he gave me the lessons, and Jehan and Enjolras gave me those books that I practiced on–but it was you who told me that I could learn.  And then you told me again and again until I started to believe it.  I overheard you say once that you don’t think they’re important, the kind of things you’re good at, not up beside what the rest of them do, but I will tell you tonight that without you, I would never have dared to pick up a pen.  Everyone helped me, it’s true, but you were the only one who saw that I needed to be convinced of the possibility.

That’s why I’m writing this letter, really–because I see the way you let your face fall when you think nobody’s watching.  I hear the things you mutter under your breath (you forget that even though, maybe because, my eyesight is so bad, I have very good hearing).  You think you don’t matter, and Courfeyrac, you are so, so wrong!  You are the one who sees what other people don’t notice.  You make everyone feel loved and important.  Not only can you talk to anyone, but you listen as well.  

It’s why I love you.  

Why I love you in a way I’ve never loved anyone else.

I know that’s a terrible thing to tell you after everything’s over ~~and I’m~~ –I should be saying it to your face.  But everything happened so _fast_ , and if I told you now you’d know something was up, ~~and maybe I’m just a little afraid, even though I know you know about Bossuet and~~

I couldn’t risk you going into the future not knowing how loved you are.  Thinking, perhaps, that we sent you away because you were useless, the most dispensable–instead of the least.

If it helps, I know what’s going to happen (I’m writing this after we lost the outer line of defenses) and I’m all right about it.  I am a little bit afraid, to tell the truth.  But I don’t regret any of the choices that brought us here.  Even if it has to end like this, I believe in everything we’ve done–and everything you’re going to continue to do.

Because you’re going to live.  (I keep whispering it to myself over and over, and I can’t stop the foolish smile on my face.)  It will be hard, but you are stronger than you know.  Out of all of us, you’re the one who will be able to fix his heart and carry on.  You will tell our story, and your bright love will draw other people to take up what we set down.  In time, you’ll be happy again.

I’m out of time; I see Enjolras whispering with Combeferre, getting ready.  I’m so sorry for what we’re about to do to you.  The next few hours will be very hard for you, I’m afraid.  But you’ll get through.  You’ll go on–and Courfeyrac, I’m so glad.

With all my love and admiration,

Feuilly


End file.
